Nature. Mindfulness. Inspiration. Life.

At breakfast today, while turning the page of an incredibly good book (to be revealed here in the coming weeks), I looked up and saw it. A basket in the corner, catching the morning light. I don't even remember how this basket came into my home. Its history is a mystery. And yet here it was, catching my attention.

Of course, you know what happened next: I reached for my camera (or more correctly, my iPhone). I clicked into my favorite camera app (Camera+ by tap tap tap, and no, I'm not being paid to say that), hitting the "macro" feature. All of the tiniest details of the basket came into exquisitely clear view. Not just a simple brown basket anymore, but a basket with fine threads of yellow, blue, green, purple, red, black, white, and orange. Just moments before, it was a simple brown basket.

Somebody, somewhere, made this basket that now lives in my house. Somebody shaped the reeds and guided them, weaving the strands over and under. An anonymous craftsman (or craftswoman, or craftsperson, if we're going to be P.C.) made this basket for an anonymous owner. Me.

Did you ever think of the thousands and thousands of hands that helped put together all of the things in your home? It's mind-boggling when you get right down to it. Everyday artists who created useful things, beautiful things, things we might not even notice as we scurry about our days.

"Look deeply at the apple in your hand and see the farmer who tended the apple tree; the blossom that became the fruit; the fertile earth; the organic material from decayed remains of prehistoric marine animals and algae, and the hydrocarbons themselves; the sunshine, the clouds, and the rain. Without the combination of these far-reaching elements and without the help of many people, the apple would simply not exist."

Right now, look around the room you're in. Find just one thing and imagine its history. Imagine the hands that touched it, all the elements and all the forces that brought it into your home.

My calendar tells me that spring begins officially this Monday, March 20, even though I'm looking at nearly two feet of snow outside the window right now! I hope that wherever you are, you're making the best of your weather. Here are some fun and lovely things I want to share with you for the weekend:

Much to my family's chagrin, I don't ski and have no desire to start. So whenever we head up to Killington, Vermont (which we've been doing regularly for the past three years), there's an awful lot of "encouraging" (some might call it "pestering") that is aimed in my direction.

"But Mom...you would LOVE the views! You would go crazy taking pictures!"

"Mom, don't you miss us all day? It would be a lot more fun if we could all be together on the mountain!"

Truth be told, I do enjoy the days all to myself, exploring neighboring towns with my camera. (It should be noted that "neighboring towns" in Vermont are sometimes an hour's drive away. Luckily, those drives are scenic.) I had good fun going back to Manchester, which has one of my favorite places to spend a whole afternoon, Northshire Bookstore. I also discovered Woodstock during this trip, which is a thoroughly charming town with lots of galleries, antique stores, very old homes, a covered bridge, little boutiques, and (you guessed it) a good bookstore.

It was about five days into the vacation when my husband hatched an "evil genius plan." He bought me a gondola ticket so I could ride up (in street clothes) to the peak lodge at Killington and have lunch with him and the kids at the top of the mountain. They all wanted me to see exactly what I was missing.

At first, the plan seemed to backfire. We were completely fogged in and the "view" out the window was non-existent.

But then...(dramatic pause)...the fog lifted.

And I could finally see what my family had been so excited about. The views were spectacular, no way to deny it.

So, will I try skiing? Okay already--YES! Especially after my husband suggested that he and my daughter would learn to snowboard and my son (who is already a snowboarder) would learn to ski, so we would all be novices together. (Genius, I tell ya!) My family is feverishly planning our next trip to the mountains before I change my mind.